


The First Noelle

by SegaBarrett



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Christmas, Foster Care, Gen, Post-Felina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse's first Christmas after Felina takes an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Noelle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [biblionerd07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Breaking Bad and I make no money from this.

Jesse’s hands were sweating as he moved to open Brock’s Christmas list. This shouldn’t have been nearly as terrifying as it was; after all, he knew the drill, he’d done it and so had Jake, you just wrote down a bunch of toys out of the Sears catalog and then if you were lucky, your parents got them for you and if you were less lucky, your parents got you whatever the hell they were planning on getting you anyway. If you didn’t get what you wanted, you could always just blame Santa. 

But still, Jesse didn’t want to open the envelope.

He feared that if he opened it, Brock would have written a letter asking for Santa or God or somebody, anybody, to bring Andrea back, and Jesse just couldn’t handle that right now.

He sighed and placed it back on the desk. He would open it later.

***

Jesse had been rescued from the Nazi compound in the second week of September. The next month had been frenetic running around and trying to get himself in some sort of shape to exist, let alone do anything else, before he had come back and set up an appointment with a social worker to speak about adopting Brock.

Any other social worker would have probably looked at his file and told him to get lost and never come back around again, but Brock had happened to be assigned to a young woman named Kiara Penning, straight out of grad school and filled with a flurry of optimistic idealism that hadn’t been dampened by experience just yet. She’d listened to Jesse’s story and responded with a jumble of exclamations, explaining that Andrea’s grandmother had passed away earlier in the year from heart failure and that there weren’t any other relations who had stepped up and claimed Brock.

“We tried to locate his father,” Kiara explained, “But he’s not on the birth certificate and no one’s come forward, so that was a dead end. You’re like a godsend, actually, despite what the papers are saying about you.”

“What’s that?” Jesse had inquired.

“That you’re dead,” she’d informed him, handing him a bunch of forms. “I need proof that Brock has a bedroom, clearances that prove you’ve never been arrested for child abuse, and try not to get yourself arrested. We’d put him in foster care with you first. That’ll clear the way to adopting him, unless some other Cantillos come out of the woodwork.”

Jesse had managed it all.

***

“Hi Jesse,” Brock called as he walked through the door, placing his backpack on the floor by the couch before sitting down. “Did you get my letter mailed to Santa?”

“Yes,” Jesse replied with a big smile. “I’m sure he’ll be getting it right away.” He reached out and gently tousled Brock’s hair. “How was school?”

“It was okay,” Brock told him. 

“Have any homework?”

Brock made a face.

“Yeah. But it’s almost Christmas. There shouldn’t be any homework.”

“I agree, kid. Your teacher’s a Scrooge,” Jesse teased, hugging the boy. “Let’s go get it knocked out anyway so then we can do something more fun, okay?”

Brock nodded, but posed the question, “Like what?” 

“Like watch some Christmas movies. Or, maybe, bake some Christmas cookies.”

Brock let out a small sound of approval before opening his backpack and getting some notebooks out. Jesse wondered, not for the first time, at how much homework these teachers seemed determined to pile upon these kids. He wished he could explain to them how much Brock had been through in the past year and point out that addition was probably not going to be the most helpful remedy.

Not to mention, every time Brock opened his homework, Jesse couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going to happen when the kid got up to high school, and up to all of the classes that Jesse hadn’t bothered to attend. He had to hope that he could learn that stuff all over again in the next couple years.

But for now, it was simple; tens place, hundreds place, stuff like that and adding three-digit numbers together. Jesse smiled at how smart Brock was proving to be. How smart his son was proving to be.

***

“Six, seven, eight… twenty-eight cookies,” Brock announced proudly as he closed the lid on the tin. “Can we eat some of them right now?”  
Jesse grinned.

“Of course.” He gestured to the baking sheet still cooking in the oven. “As soon as those ones come out, we can go ahead and eat as many of those as you want.” Brock’s expressive brown eyes lit up at that.

“Awesome!” he exclaimed. “I’m gonna go get my drink from my room.” He rushed up the stairs and Jesse watched after him with a little sigh, moving to pick up the Santa letter from where he had stashed it. He put it in his pocket; he would read it after Brock went to bed, he was going to hold himself to it this time.  
Brock returned a few moments later with his juice, and Jesse tried to shove his nervousness to the side again. Brock was in the right place; he had to keep telling himself that. Kiara, the social worker, had agreed, hadn’t she? And weren’t they trained to know this kind of thing? To know what to look for in people?

Jesse pushed that all to the side as he turned off the oven, put on a mitt, and proceeded to take out the Christmas cookies and put them on a plate, wincing as a few of them nearly burnt his fingers. Brock giggled with glee.

“Jesse, you’re supposed to wait to pick them up!” he chastised with childish wisdom. “Everybody knows that.”

Jesse grinned.

“I guess I was too eager,” he told Brock. “I can be a bad example.”

He said it teasingly, but in his mind he wondered if it may have more truth to it than he’d care to admit.

*** 

Brock was at school, and Jesse was slowly ironing out the creases in the paper, in the letter, with his hands. 

He slowly started to read it, finding his hands shaking, old scars flaring up in his back and in his hands, in his neck. Like he was being gagged again because there wasn’t anything he could say to help Brock, not really, he’d been stupid to think otherwise, hadn’t he?

He had to read it, though. There wasn’t any choice. He owed it to him.

“Dear Santa,  
My name is Brock Cantillo. I think I’ve been good this year and there isn’t all that much that I want. I hope that you make sure my Mommy in Heaven gets something nice this year and my Uncle Tomas too. I miss them a lot. But I really want Jesse to get nice presents because he loves me and is taking care of me. I kind of wish I could get a new little brother or sister this year, but I would be okay with a dog or a cat. If it’s a dog I would like a big fluffy one like Beethoven in that movie. I would also like some new toy cars and anything else you want to bring me. Merry Christmas Santa!

Love,

Brock”

Jesse could feel his eyes starting to tear up. Brock was the bravest kid, maybe the bravest person period that he would ever know. He loved that kid with all his heart.

And he had an idea about how he could make his dreams come true. It might have been a crazy idea, and by now, Jesse was probably a crazy person, but it couldn’t really hurt to ask.

***

“Hello there, Jesse,” Kiara greeted him as he walked into the door of her office. “Ready for Christmas?”

“I wish,” Jesse replied truthfully. “Listen, this might sound really weird, but… I am… really thankful for Brock, and the chance to raise him and be a part of his life.” He slowly took a seat.

“That doesn’t sound weird at all,” Kiara replied with a smile, looking up at him.

“The… next part might. Is there any way… I could maybe get approved to take in another foster child? I mean, I know I’m kind of overwhelmed right now anyway, but… I think… I mean if Brock had someone to live with…”

Kiara looked at him.

“You’re not trying to solve problems you’re having with Brock by bringing another child into the mix?” she suggested warily, and Jesse shook his head.

“I mean… I don’t think we’re having that many problems. He’s great. I just… I don’t know. I want him to have the chance to have a full family.”

“He has a full family, with you. Jesse… Listen. From what I’ve seen of you and Brock, I’m all for placing a second child in your care if you’re ready. But only if this is for the right reasons and not because you’re convinced you’re lacking somehow.”

Jesse shook his head.

“Listen,” she told him, “Think about all of this. But in the meantime, yeah, I’ll put you on the list for emergency placements okay? If we need you… We’ll call you. Until then…” Her brown eyes lit up. “Enjoy your holidays.”

***

Jesse flipped the switch and watched as the tiny train ran along the track, speeding up as it brought along with it its cargo of coal or whatever. He tried not to think of Drew Sharp. 

Brock reached out and placed a tiny person in the little town that was surrounded by the train tracks. 

“It’s snowing,” he told Jesse with a big smile, and Jesse cocked his head to the side in curiosity.

“Have you ever actually seen snow, Brock? I mean… In real life?”

Brock shook his head. 

“Only on TV,” he explained, looking at the little specks of fake snow that coated the green that was placed over the table.

Jesse smiled.

“I used to think about going to Alaska,” he told him. “Where it snows all the time.”

Brock looked at him.

“Why didn’t you go?”

Jesse let out a sigh. 

“Stuff happened, I guess.”

“Do you still want to go?”

Jesse looked watched as the little train went around again.

“I don’t know. Not without you.” He smiled and tousled Brock’s hair affectionately. 

***

Jesse was awoken on Christmas morning to Brock banging on his door. For a second, a heartbreaking second, he felt as if he’d stopped breathing because he was sure, definite, that something was wrong.

Then he realized what day it was. And that it was six in the morning.

“Jesse! Jesse!” Brock called, “Can we go downstairs and open presents? Please?”

Jesse sighed and pulled the pillow over his head a few moments before begrudgingly getting up and out of bed. 

Downstairs, Brock was sitting cross-legged in front of all of the wrapped presents, with a huge smile on his face and a look that was a kind of awe. 

“Can I?” he inquired, and Jesse could feel his heart warm in a way that he didn’t think was possible. Brock was happy. Brock could still be happy after what had happened… Brock wasn’t broken forever, and maybe that meant that Jesse wasn’t, either. 

Twenty minutes later, the floor was covered in wrapping paper, and Jesse walked by with a box and deposited all the tape, paper, and envelopes inside it. 

Brock seemed to be at a loss about what to play with first, as he looked around at the toys he’d encircled himself with, like he was trapped in a sea of toy cars and action figures and had to climb his way out.

“Christmas is the best,” he commented with a smile. 

***

They were watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for the sixth time in a row when the phone rang. Jesse finished scooping a gingerbread chocolate-covered pretzel into his mouth and jumped up to answer it. His heart started pounding. Hopefully it was just junk mail and not bad news. It was Christmas… it couldn’t be bad news, don’t let it be bad news.

“Hello?” he said into the phone.

“Jesse! Hey, it’s Kiara. Sorry to bother you on Christmas.”

His heart pounded faster. Maybe the agency wanted Brock back. Maybe they’d decided he didn’t really deserve him after all.

“Hey… Uh, hi… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jesse,” Kiara said. “Do you remember when we talked about you being an emergency placement?”

Jesse reached back and brushed at his hair a moment.

“Uh….Yeah. I think,” he stammered.

“That’s promising,” Kiara told him dryly. “Listen, we have an infant girl, just born – she needs a placement. Are you still interested?”

“Yes! Yeah. Sure!”

“We have a crib we can loan you,” Kiara told him, “Since the stores won’t be open on Christmas.”

“What happened?” Jesse asked.

Kiara sighed.

“Her mother O.D.ed,” she said simply. “I’ll give you a call in a couple hours.”

***

Jesse was blinking, rushing around, checking for the hundredth time that the house looked at least halfway decent.   
Brock looked up from the TV with curiosity.

“I guess Santa heard me when I said I wanted a little brother or sister,” he noted, leaning on the arm of the couch. “I changed my mind and wanted a puppy instead. Oh well.”

Jesse looked at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Well, she might only be living with us for a while,” Jesse explained, “Until they find her a home to live in forever.”  
Brock blinked at him.

“Does she have a name?” he asked. 

Jesse bit his lip.

“I don’t think so,” he admitted, not wanting to get into specifics and upset Brock. 

Brock got up and walked to the Christmas tree.

“How about Noelle?” he suggested. “Since it’s Christmas.”

“I don’t know if we get to name her…” Jesse hedged. 

“Her name’s Noelle,” Brock said firmly.

Jesse laughed.

“Okay. We’ll call her Noelle, then.”

***

Getting the crib through the front door proved to be an adventure, but it eventually found its way into a back bedroom, refitted with sheets and with a tiny sleeping occupant.

“So you just… go?” Jesse inquired, looking at Kiara.

“You know what you’re doing,” she reminded him. “You’re doing just fine with Brock.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Jesse started. 

“If you need any help, you know where I’m at, okay?” Kiara said with a smile. “Don’t doubt yourself.” She made her way out the door and Jesse looked back at Brock, trying not to panic.

“Hey Jesse,” Brock spoke up a second later. Jesse jumped slightly up. 

“Yeah Brock?”

“Look outside.” Brock pointed, then ran up to the window to press his face up against it in fascination. “It’s snow.”

Jesse blinked, walking up to look at it too, sprinkling down from the sky in tiny specks of white. It was even laying, sticking against the street in front of their home.

“Merry Christmas, Brock,” Jesse whispered. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, and if he was being honest, he was still panicking. But it was a beautiful winter day in Albuquerque, and he was with his family. For right then, that was enough for him.


End file.
